Remembering
by Penultima
Summary: He wants to but he won't try to rub himself clean, because those things are part of him and he still loves them so very much. Even if...[ sora, mom, dad ] one shot.


Please, please forgive me,  
But I won't be home again.  
Maybe someday you'll have woke up,  
And, barely conscious, you'll say to no one:  
Isn't something missing++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ She is in the kitchen. Humming something that could be a lullaby or some other song. She doesn't know what it is but it is familiar and he loved it. She knows this and yet she doesn't remember.

"Darling, breakfast is ready." she calls out to the living room beside the kitchen. Her beloved husband responds as well as he can with his eyes still on the television screen, and she sighs. Then she walks up the stairs to call him but she doesn't remember. And she walks across the landing to the room at the end of the hall and twists the doorknob open and no one is there.

She is unfazed.

She picks up the shirts on the floor and they belong to a little boy with eyes like sea and a smile like stars and she doesn't remember.

She goes down the stairs again and puts the shirts in the laundry. She remembers to put in the lemon-scented detergent because otherwise he itches in his clothes, but she doesn't remember. She walks back to the breakfast table and clears up the plate on that extra seat which has not been touched. She sits down and eats her breakfast and she still does not remember.  
+ You won't cry for my absence, I know -  
You forgot me long ago.  
Am I that unimportant...? Am I so insignificant...? Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ He cries out in ecstatic joy when cheers erupt from the television box. He bounces slightly in his seat on the couch like a little boy and turns to his side. There is no one there.

He isn't disturbed.

He reaches over the empty space and picks up the soda can there. It has been years since he last touched alcohol. The doctor said isn't good for the baby. The baby is a big boy and a young man, but even now he doesn't drink alcohol around him but he doesn't remember.

He dries the can in one swig and stands up to throw it away. He picks up the untouched can still nice and chilled and the starry mug with ice in it and brings them to the kitchen. He always forgot to put things back, the little runt, but he's a good boy.

But he doesn't remember.

He sits back down on the couch in the living room and opens up his book. His eyes go to the door and he waits for the familiar brown head to appear and settle beside him. Nothing happens but it doesn't bug him. He strains his ears to make sure the creaking sound was just his chair, and starts reading. He takes out the handmade crayon bookmark with scrawly handwriting and he still does not remember.  
+ Even though I'd be sacrificed,  
You won't try for me, not now.  
Though I'd die to know you love me,  
I'm all alone.  
Isn't someone missing me++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "I am coming home." He says aloud.

And even though he is happy and nothing is wrong his heart hurts like it has been squeezed dry. His fists are clenched and he cannot move. He is standing right at the shores of the same island he left from and looking at where home is but it feels so wrong.

Was there anything he'd left behind?

"Sora?"

He smiles and turns around and says "I'm fine." but this time he doesn't mean it.

So he gets into the little boat he has not been in for two solid years and starts rowing. And for the first time he tries so, so hard to ignore his crying, screaming heart.  
+ And if I bleed, I'll bleed,  
Knowing you don't care.  
And if I sleep just to dream of you And wake without you there,  
Isn't something missing? Isn't something.  
+ Kairi and Riku are all already home and he is left walking alone up the street of his home. The sound of his rubber soles on the pavement and the chain around his neck is foreign to him. He has half a mind to tip-toe, because the street is so quiet and calm and he feels like this is not any place he belongs in. But he keeps on walking.

He walks up to the wooden door with the big brass number on it and opens it quietly--shaking fingers on the cold brass handle pushing down and pushing forward so that it opens with a soft, familiar creak. The house is cool and warm at the same time. Music and voices float out of the living room and it is so familiar and close to him that he chokes on his own tears. But he doesn't cry.

He walks into the carpeted hallway and down towards the living room. The door is only half open but he doesn't touch it. He is standing at the half-open door and looking in and he can see his mom and dad sitting on the couch with his mother's head on his father's shoulder talking and i miss you so much he sucks in breath like he cannot breathe.

"Mom?"

"Dad?"

They stop talking and their heads swivel towards him in slow motion. He can see a pair of eyes as blue as his own and a face as cherubic as his own and it makes him want to cry. His chest is tight with so much emotion and his heart is so thick and full and sad and happy and he cannot hold it. He cries, breath in choking gasps and small shoulders shaking.

They stare. First at him, then slowly to each other. Then at him.

"Mom?"

Her head is tipped slightly, like a little girl looking at an interesting toy. Her eyes are sad and worried and he wants her to hold him like it has been two years and never ever let go. But she just sits and stares with mouth slightly open and does nothing.

"Dad?"

He looks almost angry and cautious and confused, eyebrows tightening around blue eyes like his own, tight-lipped and distant. He looks at him like he is an unwanted cat scratching at the furniture. He is frowning at him and he wants him to be a father and hold his son and cry just this one time and say how much he loved him. But he just sits and stares with a frown and bunched up eyebrows and does nothing.

"Mom? Dad? Don't you remember me?"

Then the whole world explodes when they all start screaming. The man on the couch bellowing at him to get out of his house this moment you intruder and her shouting at the top of her lungs that they have no son you thieving burglar and they both keep shouting for this fake to get out because they have no son.

And he is doubled up on the carpet with a rounded back like a hiding turtle and he is crying and screaming because they don't remember they don't remember and he begs them please please don't forget and please please stop kidding and please

please please please

But they don't listen and he is thrown out of the house like an unwanted stray and he lies there on the pavement curled up like he had been when he was unborn and wails and weeps like he used to when his monsters came out from under the bed and daddy wasn't there. He cries and cries and lies there like an abandoned, rejected baby ripped out of the womb. Bleeding and only half alive with closed up eyes and sticky with the things from the place he used to belong to. He wants to but he won't try to rub himself clean because he know he can't get rid of the memories and he still loves them so much.

Even if they may never remember.  
+ Please, please forgive me,  
But I won't be home again.  
I know what you do to yourself,  
Shudder deep and cry out:  
Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Upstairs in the room at the end of the hall the door and windows have been thrown wide open. On the toy-strewn floor she is crying and sobbing with her fist in her mouth because she doesn't want him to hear. She chokes and her throat burns and she clutches and holds herself because it feels like her heart is eating her alive from inside out.

She sobs in the empty room the boy used to sleep in and she is crying and she takes her fist out of her mouth to sing the lullaby she cannot remember the name of.

She sings only because she knows he loves it.

This time she sings and she remembers. 


End file.
